Happy New Year: The Story Of A Bright Believer
by TooMuchSarcasm
Summary: Meet Leo Brighton, the go-to guy on anything to do with celebrations. 14 years old and still an avid believer in magic, Leo and his mother have moved to Burgess in hope for better jobs and cheaper rent. Leo's life hasn't been anything spectacular, but that will all change once he meets Jack Frost. Meanwhile, Death's scythe has recently gone missing- is Pitch to blame? R&R!
1. The Beginning

*takes deep breath* So, I've finally found the inspiration to continue this story! I posted this on my other account (now known as Bookworm P. Pseudonym), but I've recently decided I'm going to move all my stories from that account over to here- but not before seriously editing them.

**Song To Listen To:** I'm Just A Kid by Simple Plan

* * *

_Hi. Name's Leo, Leo Brighton. You probably haven't heard of me; I'm not a celebrity or anything. But I'm not human, I can tell you that. So, I should probably start from the beginning, where it all started... no, not when I was born. See, I once had a normal life like you._

**~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~**

"Sweetie, it's time for supper!" Rebecca Brighton, aka Leo's mom, shouted from upstairs in the kitchen.

Leo Brighton nodded distractedly, his eyes glued to the screen. "Yeah, yeah!'' He called out casually. ''I'll be up in a minute, mom!" He set down the control before running upstairs, skipping two steps at a time.

"What we having?" The teen questioned as he plopped down in his seat, even though he already knew the answer.

"Ravioli," Mrs. Brighton sighed, looking down. "I'm sorry, sweetie, but it's all we have... I promise, once I get my paycheck we'll go out for supper."

Leo perked up. "Burger King?" He asked hopefully.

His mother nodded, smiling. "Definitely. But for now we'll have to settle for this..."

"It's alright," Leo quickly reassured her. "I love ravioli."

Mrs. Brighton went over to the fridge that was stuffed in a corner and started digging through it. "Let's see... a-hah!" She pulled out a loaf of bread. "We have some bread that we got from the market last month, we could also have that..." She brought it over to the table. "Are you sure this is enough, sweetie?" She looked at her son worriedly.

"It's fine! Perfect!" Leo put a hand on her shoulder. "I don't know why you worry so much, mom, we'll be fine!" He smiled brightly. "Right?

His mother nodded, not having the will to tell him that she would be barely able to pay the bills this coming month, much less the rent. "Right." She cleared her throat. "So, let's talk." She sat down, taking a bite of her ravioli.

Leo nodded eagerly. "Well, some kids are doing fireworks in Central Park, they said it's gonna be a blast, no pun intended... Can we go?" He looked at his mother hopefully. ''I never really get invited to stuff like this, and this could be my chance to make friends with them!''

His mother sighed. "Sweetie, I'm sorry, but I work that night..."

_Along with every other night, _Leo thought, but stayed silent.

"And you know how dangerous it is to be in the park alone. I'm sorry, I know how much you like fireworks, but..."

Leo forced himself to smile brightly. "I-It's okay... besides, we need to finish packing for the move to Burgess...''

His mother nodded gratefully. "Good..." She chuckled. "You know, honey, I'll never understand your obsession with fireworks."

Leo shrugged. "I dunno, they're just so..."

"Magical?" His mother supplied, raising an eyebrow.

Leo nodded. "Yeah, magical." Leo happened to be an avid believer in all things supernatural, magical, or even extraordinary, but for whatever reason he has always been drawn to fireworks.

**~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~**

"Aaaand Bennett gets knocked out by Frost!" Jack announced teasingly as Jamie got smacked in the face by a snowball, courtesy of Jack Frost himself. ''Unbelievable!''

Jamie rolled his eyes. ''That's cheating, Jack!'' He accused, though a huge smile was on his face. ''You can't use snowballs in this game!''

Jack shrugged innocently, leaning on his staff. ''Why not?''

Sophie chose that moment to come hopping-yes, I did say hopping,- out of the house. ''Bunny, bunny, bunny!'' She giggled. ''Hop, hop, hop!'' She had one of those bunny ear headbands on her head, and she was still in her pajamas.

Jack grinned before flying over to the young girl. He snatched the bunny ears off her head and put them on his. '"What do you think?'' He questioned, a grin on his face. ''Too big?'' The ridiculous ears were incredibly fluffy, and kind of floppy.

Jamie raised an eyebrow. ''Um, yeah. Leave the bunny ears to Mr. Bunnymund.''

Jack snorted. ''More like Kangamund,'' He commented before giving the ears back to Sophie. ''So, whatcha been up to lately, kiddo?''

Jamie shrugged. ''Not much, though I heard another kid is moving in across the street in a couple weeks, I think his name starts with an L... Leo, maybe?''

''Another kid, eh?'' Jack mused.

Jamie rubbed the back of his neck. ''Well, more like teenager,'' He corrected himself. ''He's fourteen.''

''Oh.'' Jack said, a slightly crestfallen look on his face, it was selfish to believe that a 14 year old would believe in some winter spirit- heck, he probably didn't even believe in North.

Seeing the look on his friend's face, Jamie immediately added, ''Hey, I heard he's from New York City. Didn't you give them a major blizzard the other weekend?''

They continued chatting, Sophie having gone inside to watch TV. Their minds were off of the new kid... for now.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own ROTG, any of it's characters, or Burger King- I just own Leo and Mrs. Brighton.

Please read and review!


	2. Meeting Jack

Here's the second chapter! Hope you like it! :)

**Song To Listen To:** When Can I See You Again by Owl City

* * *

Leo Brighton whistled cheerfully under his breath as he wandered down the street. His soot-stained hands were shoved in the pockets of his jeans, the result of his latest experiment. It had officially been three days since he and his mother moved to Burgess, and so far he was, and not to sound like a kid in a McDonald's commercial, "lovin' it".

But, all jokes aside, Burgess did seem like a pretty cool town- it was more relaxed than New York City, which Leo supposed was a good thing. However, the fourteen year old had always grown up in bustling cities filled with excitement and workaholic busybodies and sirens in the background- it was a bit weird to be able to hear what was going on across the street.

Leo sighed, a strange pang in his chest. Even though his old city did have it's flaws, it was what he was used to. It had never really occurred to him that he'd probably never see NYC again.

**~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~**

Jack Frost was flying around- or should I say above,- Burgess, staff in hand. The wind carried him past the towering pine trees and the roofs of cozy-looking houses.

Suddenly, the back of Jack's neck tingled. He frowned, curious, but decided to listen to his instincts. The wind slowed Jack down, before just holding him in place in the air.

The winter spirit looked down, only to find a teenager ambling along beneath him, as if the world was made of gumdrops.

Jack was a bit shocked at first- nowadays, he found that winter wasn't so much go-outside-and-have-fun-in-the-snow time for teens, more like spend-the-entire-day-playing-video-games time. So, it was a bit of a surprise that this one was mindlessly walking around- and without a coat, too. Even Jack, who couldn't grow sick from the cold, wore a hoodie.

Jack decided to swoop down and check him out, and, sure enough, the wind guided him down behind the teen. Jack easily landed on his feet, and twirled his staff in one hand as he studied the teenager.

The guy had shaggy black hair that was thick and wavy, and fell to around his chin. He had light skin with boyish features and rosy cheeks. His eyes were covered by gold-colored goggles, though Jack could make out a strange glint behind them. He was just wearing denim jeans and a t-shirt, along with a golden watch and boots. Strange enough, he didn't even seem to shiver in the cold.

Jack walked up closer behind the boy, his bare feet crunching in the frost that appeared wherever he walked. The teen's back stiffened, and his raised his shoulders. Suddenly, the boy whirled around, and struck a defensive pose. ''Stay back!'' He yelled, waving his arms in a strange circular motion. ''I have firecrackers, and you don't want me to use them!''

Jack's mind went blank, and he blinked. ''...Firecrackers?'' Was all he could say.

The teen nodded, grinning. ''Yup! I always knew they'd come in handy someday, and I was right!'' He puffed out his chest proudly.

''You... you can see me?''

He cocked his head, like a confused dog. ''Yeah, why? Others can't?''

Jack shook his head, and found himself more at ease. ''No, only people who believe in me.''

The mystery teen looked down right befuddled, before he gasped in delight. ''Ohh!'' He said understandingly. ''You must be some sort of ghost or spirit, right? That's so cool!''

Jack chuckled a bit. ''Well, that's one way of putting it. Jack Frost, Spirit of Winter and Guardian of Fun Times, at your service.'' He did a little bow, before straightening up and muttering in an awestruck tone, ''I can't believe you see me!''

The boy shrugged. ''I guess I'm really stubborn,'' He responded simply. ''I'll essentially believe in anything, really.'' The teen was silent for an awkward moment, before his eyes widened. ''Oh, right! I'm Leo Brighton. Not a Spirit or a Guardian- whatever that is- but I'm a pretty good repairman.'' He mimicked Jack's bow.

Jack cracked a smile at Leo. ''Cool. Who else do you believe in, by the way?''

Leo thought for a moment. ''Who else is real?''

The white-haired teen shrugged. ''Well, tons of people. There's spirits for the other seasons, just about every holiday that exists, and every single mythological figure. Then there's the main ones- the Sandman, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy, Santa, and Man in the Moon. And a bunch more..''

Leo looked like a child on Christmas morning. ''Wow! That's so awesome!'' He commented, astonished.

Jack nodded, smiling. ''Yeah, I guess it is,'' He admitted. The spirit then looked up at the sky. ''Well, I gotta run,'' Jack told Leo, a hint of regret in his voice. ''I promised the Guardians I'd meet up with them today.''

Leo nodded, before growing sad. ''Wait, will I ever see you again?'' He pleaded.

Jack jumped up in the air, and the wind caught him before he fell, lifting the spirit up into the sky. ''YES!'' He called out, before soaring off.

Leo smiled, before he remembered the question he had wanted to ask. ''WAIT!'' He hollered, cupping his hands around his mouth. ''WHAT'S A GUARDIAN?'' Unfortunately, Jack was now just a speck in the sky, and Leo's voice didn't reach his ears.

The teen sighed, kicking at the ground. ''That was fun,'' He commented to himself. ''And he didn't even nip at my nose.'' Leo then continued walking down the street, hoping nobody thought he was too crazy for shouting at the sky.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own ROTG, or any of it's characters- I just own Leo and Mrs. Brighton.

Please read and review!


	3. The Guardians

Aaand another chapter- three in one day is almost a record for me, I think.

So, I'm going to be adding one more character to this story- yup, you guessed it, Death himself! However, I think I'll just have Death play a smaller role in this story with the main focus being on Leo- I'll probably do a sequel where Leo and Death sort of share the spotlight, and maybe a spin-off strictly about Death..? Haha, it's just a thought.

Anyways, I don't really have a song for this chapter- any suggestions?

* * *

North's brow crinkled in confusion. ''Jack, you say this boy was teenager, but could still see you?''

The white-haired spirit nodded in happiness, leaning against the wall. ''Yup! Pretty cool, huh?'' Jack and North, along with the rest of the Guardians, were in North's Workshop for the annual Guardian meeting.

Bunny just snorted- half a year ago he would've made a snarky comment, but now that Jack was a Guardian, he and Bunny had now become a bit more friendly with each other.

North stroked his chin, humming deeply under his breath. ''Hm, something seems strange,'' He commented. ''Suspicious.''

Jack seemed indignant at this. ''What, so I can't get an older believer without things being suspicious?!'' He exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air in exasperation.

Tooth appeared, hovering over Jack's shoulder. ''North didn't mean it like that, Jack,'' She told him gently. ''It's wonderful you got another believer, it really is. Right, Bunny?''

The said Easter Bunny looked up, before nodding grudgingly. ''Yeah, I guess,'' He commented casually, not wanting to admit that he was jealous that Jack had a believer that was over 12.

''See?'' Tooth flew a bit closer to North. ''North's just a bit on edge right now, right?''

North nodded in confirmation. ''Is correct. Was not dissing you, Jack, I am just on edge right now..''

Jack raised an eyebrow. ''Your belly?''

North shook his head. ''No, is something different... I have strange feeling, but not in belly.''

Tooth patted North's shoulder, before turning her gaze back to Jack, her amethyst eyes twinkling curiously. ''What was he like?''

''What? Oh.'' Jack blinked, trying to remember. ''Um, he was nice... a bit weird and hyper, he apparently carries around firecrackers and is a good repairman. Leo was his name, Leo Brighton.''

Tooth smiled genuinely. ''Leo Brighton? Hm, that name sounds familiar.''

North nodded. ''Yes, he is on Good List, has been for years,'' He said, sneaking a glance at Jack that said _unlike you_, but more in a teasing manner.

Jack chuckled. ''Huh, interesting. I'm guessing he believes in all of you, he sure seemed to.''

Sandy, who was drinking left-over eggnog in the corner, perked up. He floated over, and signs made of sand appeared above his head.

Tooth, North, and Bunny looked to Jack, who shrugged, now tense. ''I don't know if he believes in Pitch,'' He said honestly. He shivered at the mention of the Boogeyman's name. ''I didn't mention him.''

''Good thing you didn't,'' Bunny muttered. ''Ah sure hope the kid doesn't believe in the stinkin' ratbag.''

''He's gone, Bunny,'' Tooth told him gently. ''I'm positive. He won't be coming out from under anyone's beds ever again.''

''You'd better be right, Tooth,'' Bunny warned his feathery friend.

''Toothy is right,'' North boomed, crossing his arms. ''We took care of Pitch. He is no problem any more.''

Oh, how wrong they were.

**~ROTGROTGROTGROTGROTGROTG~**

Meanwhile, underneath a forest far, far away from the Pole, a dark haired man was plotting his revenge (we all know who). He wore black robes, and he had multiple scratches and bruises littering his grey skin.

''Oh, they'll never expect this,'' Pitch Black muttered, his hands clasped behind his back. ''Now, how to attract Death...''

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own ROTG, or any of it's characters- I just own Leo, Mrs. Brighton, and Death.


	4. Grim Reaper

So this is four chapters in one day, whew! *sighs* Well, I'm out for the night after this. This is probably full of typos, but I'm really tired so I'll fix it in the morning..

** RedBlackDoYouHearThePeopleSing** Thanks, Reddie!

Leo: *strolls in* Well, I actually don't like hunting, it's cruel a- *pauses* *sees Sparkfang* *eyes widen* *runs like the wind*

**Song To Listen To:** Get Out Alive by Three Days Grace

* * *

Mortimer Graves was not a bad man. Quite the opposite, in fact. If only others would see that, the dashing not-so-young spirit thought to himself with a sigh.

Armed with his prized Death Scythe that had a miniature skull encrusted in it and a tendency to make those surrounding it tired, Mortimer Graves set out to find the souls of the recently deceased and guide them to the Afterlife. It was a lonely job, yes, but somebody had to do it- and, quite frankly, Mortimer didn't trust anybody else but him with the responsibilities that came with being the Grim Reaper.

Though in the olden days Mortimer took the form of a skeleton while collecting skulls, he found his skeletal form too frightening to people- both alive and deceased- so he decided to stay in his natural form.

In the aforementioned form, Mortimer was often described of as "dreamy", or, if you want to make a bad pun, "drop dead gorgeous". His luscious jet black hair was thick and shaggy, and contrasted deeply with his smooth ivory skin. His irises were a pure jet black, and seemed to be filled with the despair he had gained over the years from the stress of his job. Mortimer was tall, about as tall as Bunnymund (perhaps a bit shorter) with a bony frame, however could make even North nervous. Mortimer occasionally donned his black robes, though when not doing his job can be found in a grey blouse made of silk with sleeves that covered his hands, black trousers, and black combat boots.

Now that we're done with the description, let's move on to exactly where Mortimer was, and what he was doing.

Mortimer was currently wandering down a dark alley- typical of him. Most deaths happened in dark alleys. He didn't like it, but he couldn't stop it. The alley was right across a hospital, so if some poor mortal didn't get ganged up on in the alley, at least a few people would die in the hospital.

His Death Scythe was in his hand. Ahh, his Death Scythe. It was his trademark, his weapon, his source of power- without it he was nothing. Mortimer twirled the staff in his bony fingers absentmindedly. His shoulders were pushed back, and he looked calm but dangerous.

Suddenly, the back of Mortimer's neck prickled, and he felt a strange tugging feeling within him. He couldn't help but smile. _Finally, _he thought. _Hm, I wonder who it is?_ Mortimer let the feeling guide him deeper within the alley. He wasn't afraid.

However, he was curious as the tugging feeling grew, coming from the exact same place. Suspicious, Mortimer commented in his head. However, he continued to stride down the alley. The shadows seemed to smile at him, mocking him, grinning and...

Mortimer shot a glare at them, and the faces reflected in the shadows appeared to fade away.

Now the tugging feeling was growing even more- at least three or four deaths. In the same damn alley. _For Moon's sake!_ Mortimer thought, exasperated. He quickened his pace, his long legs guiding him down the alley. He didn't waste time before he arrived at the dead end.

Mortimer paused, looking around. He let out a scoff and held up his staff, ready to teleport away, before a voice made him stop.

''Well, well,'' The voice seemed to echo around Mortimer. ''Grim Reaper. At the risk of sounding cliché, I've been expecting you.''

Mortimer's back stiffened, as if his spine had turned into a ruler. He recognized the voice, and prayed that he was wrong.

''What, cat got your tongue?'' He sounded amused. ''Come on, now. We all know that you can speak.''

Mortimer stayed silent, but it was clear he was wondering what Pitch meant by 'we'.

Pitch knew this, and he acknowledged it. ''Oh, have you not sensed it by now, Grim? Look around you.''

Mortimer's eyes darted around, and he realized his mistake. _Nightmares,_ he thought, cursing.

''Pitch, you sneaky bastard,'' Mortimer said calmly. His voice was deep and smooth, with a hint of a British accent- much like Pitch's.

The boogeyman materialized from the shadows in front of Mortimer. ''Oh, I'd watch my language if I were you, Mortimer.''

Mortimer clenched his fists. ''Why should I? I'm not one of the Guardians you have a so-called hatred for.'' He crossed his arms maturely. ''Now, back to the subject at hand, why did you lead me here? I suspect that it's not to sit down and have a cup of tea.''

''How are you so sure?'' Pitch's tone made Mortimer growl in frustration. He sounded amused, as if he were talking to a pathetic child. As if he knew better. As if...

Mortimer cleared those thoughts from his head. _Conceal your __true feelings__,_ he reminded himself. ''You have not talked to me in centuries, Pitch,'' Mortimer told the Boogeyman, just the right hint of bitterness in his voice. ''Why shall you start now?''

Pitch held a hand to his chest in mock hurt. ''Mortimer, I must say I am hurt. What happened to the goody-two-shoes Grim Reaper you try oh-so-hard to be?''

''**Pitch**,'' Mortimer's voice hardened, and grew deeper. ''**Stop these foolish games. Cut to the chase**.''

Pitch held up his hands. ''Fine, fine. I merely came to say...'' He paused, letting the silence scream in Mortimer's ears before continuing, ''_Goodbye, and good luck_.''

Mortimer shifted into a defensive pose, but it was too late. The nightmares cantered out from the corners and spaces in between buildings. From the cracks in the sidewalks and underneath parked cars. Heading straight for him.

The Grim Reaper held up his staff, creating a barrier of shadows around him that stopped the nightmares. ''**I do believe you are forgetting, Boogeyman, just who you are dealing with**.'' He boomed.

Pitch waved his hand dismissively from on top of Onyx, his most trusted nightmare. ''Of course I haven't. You're Mortimer Graves, and I do believe it's time for a new Grim Reaper to take over.'' He smiled, showing off his dangerously sharp teeth like a shark spotting a helpless body underwater. There was no happiness in Pitch's smile.

''Wha-'' Suddenly, Mortimer's shield of shadows fell, and the Nightmares immediately charged. ''No!'' He tried to fight them off, he really did, but it was no use. His staff was yanked out of his hands, and he fell to his knees as he was swamped by nightmares. Soon enough, Mortimer's ivory skin was littered with painful looking bruises.

''Pathetic,'' Pitch sneered, kicking Mortimer in the ribs, smirking when he heard them crack.

Mortimer groaned, and attempted to get up, only to be shoved back down again. ''Honestly, Mortimer, how you've been Grim Reaper this long is a mystery. I think I'm _much_ more suited to the job.''

''N-no,'' Mortimer wheezed, mentally cursing his asthma. ''I-I won't let you..'' He coughed, hoping that his injuries weren't too serious.

''Hm,'' Pitch pretended to consider, gazing thoughtfully at Mortimer's Death Scythe. _His_ scythe. His dear, precious scythe was in the hands of the so-called Nightmare King. Anger flamed in Mortimer's stomach, though not enough to allow him the strength to get up. ''I don't really think you get any choice in this.''

Mortimer felt Nightmare Sand being sprinkled on his head, and he fought to keep his eyes open, only for them to droop shut. ''Hush, Timmy,'' Pitch cooed, his voice dripping with false sweetness. ''Go to sleep.''

That was the last thing Mortimer heard before his world went black.

* * *

Disclaimer: I don't own ROTG. But I do own Leo, Mrs. Brighton, and Mortimer Graves/Death/Grim Reaper.

Once again, please read and review!

Gaah, the Song To Listen To probably doesn't suit this chapter... meh, I'll try to find another one tomorrow.


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